The State Ballet Theatre of Russia, a professional company of 55 dancers touring the U.S. with a collage of full-length classical ballets, stopped in town Sunday for two performances of “The Sleeping Beauty” at the Harris Theater for Music and Dance.

The State Ballet Theatre of Russia is a frequent visitor to the Harris, as the classical ballet company's semiannual stop in Chicago. And though the theater’s sleek, minimalist interior suits the exemplary contemporary ballet programming seen through the years — Wendy Whelan with Brian Brooks in “Restless Creature,” Ballet Preljocaj’s “Blanche Neige” and a smattering of performances by John Neumeier’s Hamburg Ballet, to name a few — it seems an odd place for a relic like “The Sleeping Beauty.”

Nevertheless, it is valuable to showcase classical productions as close to the originals as possible, and especially relevant for a company that represents their country of origin. Premiered in 1890 at the Mariinsky Theatre in St. Petersburg and set to Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky’s paradisiacal score, “The Sleeping Beauty” is based on a Brothers Grimm fairy tale that would later, thanks to Disney, become one of ballet’s most recognizable transcendent tales, if not the most performed.

Indeed, the full-length “Sleeping Beauty” is seen less often than Tchaikovky’s two other ballets, “Swan Lake” and “The Nutcracker,” though its many variations and grand pas de deux are beloved by balletomanes, studied by every serious ballet pupil and frequently incorporated into mixed-repertory programs. State Ballet Theatre of Russia has carefully preserved Marius Petipa’s original choreography — more so than any other production of the ballet I’ve seen — and kept all the traditional trappings of the classical period, including a multitude of short, stiff tutus and center-parted buns for the ladies, and elaborate wigs and waistcoats for the men.

“The Sleeping Beauty,” like all the great classical ballets, is based on a fairy tale, transporting audience members to largely unidentified but obviously European places with castles and courtiers, envisioning places and times in which magic happened, good and evil battled, and mythical creatures existed. Attempts to make sense of it or try to rationalize the story will be met with frustration, for Petipa’s classical ballets are light on content and at their best should be seen as a display of extraordinary dance talent wrapped up in a skimpy plot. For example, the ballet’s prologue opens with a party celebrating the christening of Princess Aurora, in which six fairies appear to serve as the child’s godmothers — because that’s totally normal — and one, the Lilac Fairy, fights with an old witch named Carabosse, vowing to protect Aurora but not doing a very good job, since, you know, Aurora later falls into a coma. But this scene really only serves as a great excuse to perform six back-to-back tiny variations capitalizing on the fairylike quality that difficult passages of hopping on pointe evokes.

Maybe it’s not for me to say whether “The Sleeping Beauty’s” libretto works — the ballet has had obvious staying power. The classical ballets are a go-to for many dance patrons because they feel magical, look impressive and allow one to escape the doldrums of daily life for two or more hours, and (some of the time) let good triumph over evil. It is in this spirit that one must approach “The Sleeping Beauty,” but its success relies almost wholly on flawless, inspired dancing.

Unfortunately, the State Ballet Theatre of Russia’s dancers were neither flawless nor inspired, particularly in the ballet’s first act, offering proficient but unextraordinary technique, with put-on smiles or deadpan stares out at the audience. Exceptions might include Daria Demenchenko’s sweet, demure portrayal of Princess Aurora, despite the prima ballerina’s tall stature, and the act’s two great character roles: Vladislav Tolopilo as the loveable, bumbling master of ceremonies Catalabutte and Natalia Gubanova as the antagonist Carabosse.

Gubanova’s weird and wonderful interpretation of the evil fairy and the famous rose adagio, in which four suitors practically throw themselves at Aurora to try to win her hand, save the first act, while the second act variations and grand pas de deux infuse some life into the second. The highlight of the afternoon, unquestionably, was a series of duos portraying mini-tales of Little Red Riding Hood, Puss in Boots and the Bluebird pas de deux, each serving as entertainment for Aurora’s wedding to Prince Desire (Valeriy Tselichshev) after his kiss releases her from Carabosse’s spell. Here, as with Aurora and Desire’s grand pas de deux, the soloists ventured to infuse their roles with some depth and charm. The wedding guests, on the other hand, 12 dancers planted upstage in tidy clumps, appeared to want to be anywhere but there. Given the evolution of ballet over the past century, and the many re-stagings and studied interpretations of “The Sleeping Beauty,” it is even more important that this close-to-original version be injected with energy and passion, through a deep commitment by each and every member onstage.

Dazzle and wow me. Make me believe this silly fairy tale is real, even if it doesn’t make any sense. For that is the fun and magic of a day at the ballet.